


Rematch

by Vanemis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanemis/pseuds/Vanemis
Summary: Rumlow and Wilson keep finding each other and every time, Rumlow wants to prove he's the better fighter.





	Rematch

Fighting Cap properly felt good. No holding back, no ‘sorry Sir’ after a few rounds on a training ma t . And it felt downright great punching him into a wall with his new weapons. Sure, they were a bit bulky and he’d laughed at the idea  when the techs had pulled it out  but seeing Cap cough up blood just rubbed him up the right way. The fight was going well but it wasn’t until  Rumlow  saw Wilson that his blood went cold. 

Oh, Cap wasn’t the only one he wanted revenge on. 

That fight with Wilson was a draw in his mind. Wilson had escaped and he’d been... well. A triumphant winner hadn’t been chosen just yet and  Rumlow  needed to change that. He hadn’t realised just how much it bothered him until he saw Wilson descending down from the sky gracefully like he was some kind of angel. 

Satisfied that Cap had been put out of commission for a couple minutes,  Rumlow  marched over to Wilson and noticed the drone whizzing about on the makeshift battlefield. It had been equipped with a small turret. He just had to avoid it. 

Wilson saw him approaching, glancing over his shoulder to Cap clambering out of a broken wall.  Rumlow  liked how his eyes widened slightly in fear. 

“It’s been a while, Wilson,”  Rumlow  called out, extending the metal fists over his gloved hands. “I’d say we’re way past due for a rematch.”

Sam watched the enhancements carefully before stepping closer. He was still out of range and could pull back with his wings if needed.  Rumlow  had to take them out first, make it a proper fight. Man to man. Not man to pigeon. 

“I’m flattered you  still think  of me after all these years. That ass-kicking I gave you really stuck to heart, huh?” 

Rumlow  smirked though he felt like gritting his teeth. He couldn’t show Wilson how angry he truly was or he’d exploit that weakness. 

“Too scared to fight me again?”  Rumlow  taunted with a grin.  Sam scoffed and raised his arms, daring  Rumlow  to attack. Yet he hadn’t dismissed the drone. “How about we keep this between us, huh? You don’t need a gun to beat me, right?”

Sam eyed Redwing and tapped something on his wrist. The drone buzzed away but it still lingered  close . 

“That’s better. So, come on then. Fight me.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest  and shook his head . It unnerved Rumlow slightly.

“Nah, I’d rather you fight him.” He cocked his head and  Rumlow  turned just in time to dodge the shield aimed for his head. 

Shit, he’d forgotten about Cap. No matter, he just had to knock America’s sweetheart down a few pegs and Wilson would be his.  But  Steve had other ideas and losing wasn’t one of them. 

He ended up with one enhancement yanked off and tossed on the ground and the other was damaged beyond use. It was just him now, human meat and nothing else. He could do it. He’d won against Cap in the past. Seeing him fight, though, unrestricted by training rules and curtesy,  Rumlow  reluctantly came to the realisation that Cap had let him win before. Rogers wasn’t doing that now.

He wasn’t going to kill  Rumlow , that wasn’t Roger’s style. No, he was too good and kind for the mercy of death. If  Rumlow  lost, he’d be thrown into maximum security along with his old Hydra buddies and he’d never see daylight again. So, he gave it his all because Crossbones was  _ not  _ losing to Captain America.  

It ended up being more luck than skill. Something blew up so close to them  and  Cap was  staggered  long enough for  Rumlow  to kick him in the chest. When he had a second to look around, he saw the mercenaries hired  with  him were down for the count and the chemicals he’d been paid to steal were in Black Widow’s hands.  The bomb he’d been given would go to waste if he detonated now, he’d kill himself and not much else.

Retreat was his only option. It wasn’t easy to give up, to admit to himself that he couldn’t take on all these Avengers and walk away victorious. He’d be kidding himself. So he ran and hid and covered his tracks until not even the drone could sniff him out. 

\---

Crossbone’s  payroll had taken a serious hit after the Lagos incident. A win for the Avengers was a loss to whoever was hiring him. Sometimes it was AIM, or some billionaire with dark motives, sometimes the ruins of Hydra still needed its loyal commander. But each and every single one of his patrons was pissed at his failure. 

How could he have known those Avengers would show up and ruin the day? He wasn’t tasked with  recon . A simple retrieval mission had really put a damper on his mood and his bank account. 

Although he never stayed in one place longer than a month, in fear of SHIELD and the Avengers and general authorities, the state of his homes was gradually getting worse. Not that he stayed in posh hotels to begin with but the motels became grubbier and the old house he was squatting in was the worst one. Punching holes in the walls hadn’t  done much to make  the place  look  any more rundown. 

So when a buyer was interested in his stealth skills and enormous kill counts, he ended up doing a  few  assassination jobs.  The latest one  wasn’t somebody famous or relevant in  Rumlow’s  world, so he didn’t care and took the cash and rifle  without question.

It just happened that the location was a big party. No big deal. He had a good hiding place on a nearby rooftop and the safety ledge was the perfect height to duck behind.

He’d set up the rifle quickly, pleased that after all these years he still knew how to put together larger weapons. Sniping wasn’t his speciality but he was a better shot than anyone else on the hitman market  since the Avengers were hammering down justice . He lined up the sights, double-checked every little adjustment, and got himself comfortable.

When he saw the target in the open at last after a couple hours, he steadied the gun and exhaled slowly. The gun wasn’t silenced completely but over the music and the traffic below, no one heard the shot. They saw the guy go down with a tiny hole between his eyes, though.

Still,  Rumlow  couldn’t sit around and celebrated the impressive shot. He dismantled quickly, tucked every piece back into the case and wanted to flee. 

Except there was a drone watching him. No gun, just a big  ol ’ lens front and centre. And just by looking at the red and grey paintjob, he knew the owner. With a grin, he waved and flipped off the drone. It couldn’t stop him from leaving but the hand grabbing the back of his collar could.

“Man, you just had to ruin my night.  Didn’tcha ?” Wilson complained, throwing  Rumlow  to the ground.

With a groan,  Rumlow  got up and tossed the rifle aside. It was just extra weight and he had no fancy enhancements this time, not with his current one-and-a-half-star rating. 

“Man’s  gotta  make a living. Tough times. Shitty economy. You can hardly blame me.” 

Sam wasn’t dressed for combat. He’d thrown on some jeans and a nice button shirt for the event. His wings came from a slim backpack Stark had designed for him.  Rumlow  was eyeing all the soft places he could strike and he pulled out a knife from a sheath on his belt.

 “This time you’ll fight me properly and not cower behind Rogers.”

“Not my fault you  ain’t  spatially aware. But sure, by all means, fight the guy with wings on a rooftop. I’ll just toss you off.” 

Rumlow  scoffed and dashed towards Sam, slashing with the knife. Sam dodged with a swift turn of his wings, barely avoiding the blade from cutting his arm. He’d rolled up the sleeves to his elbows but the cotton wasn’t going to help. Sam had no armour, he just had to be careful and wait for backup. 

“Don’t be such a pussy! You’re  gonna  make me think you’re only good at running. You ran the first time, after all. Scared I’d win if you stopped all your little tricks?”

“Man, you’re not  gonna  rile me up talking like that. Bitch, I know I can take you down.”

“So do it.”

Sam stopped playing the defence and when  Rumlow  attacked again, he twisted his wrist to disarm him and punched him hard until the Hydra operative stumbled back. He kept up the offence and never gave  Rumlow  a proper chance to block. As he kicked him in the abdomen, almost making  Rumlow  fall off the roof, he caught his shirt in time to headbutt him. 

There was so much blood running down  Rumlow’s  face by the end that his sleeve was drenched from wip ing  his arm across  it .  The blood  stuck in his lashes and he tasted it on his tongue. Rumlow grinned with bloody teeth and spit at Wilson.

“That’s more like it. Feels good, doesn’t it? My turn, now.” 

Sam felt his nose break under the impact of the headbutt and he fell back on the ground, clutching his face and frowning up in annoyance. He’d ruined his shirt already but now the front was one long line of blood. Considering the cotton was a baby blue, he’d never get the stains out. 

Rumlow  looked like a psychopath and the only way to make him stop was to stab him in the thigh. They’d both forgotten about the knife until Sam felt the hilt against his fingers and now it stuck out of  Rumlow’s  leg. His pained yell was deafening up close and Sam used the distraction to kick him again. 

Pulling out the knife was almost painful enough for  Rumlow  to faint but he held it together long enough to stab Sam right back just above his hip. Neither of the cuts were lethal. Sam had avoided arteries and  Rumlow  had avoided major organs. He felt rather merciful considering that Sam was stuck on the floor howling in pain.

“I win, Wilson. I win.”

“Fuck you,  you  asshole. We’re not done yet!” Sam yelled as  Rumlow  grabbed the gun case and left via the fire escape. He was yelling at thin air, though, and he slumped back, wincing as the knife moved slightly.

He kept it in so paramedics could have a chance to stop the bleeding. When they arrived, he held onto the knife and vowed he’d stab Rumlow right back.

\---

A year passed before Sam saw him again. They’d been so busy with taking down  Zemo  and dealing with Bucky that terrorist attacks and assassinations around the world weren’t up on the agenda. He’d held onto that knife and every once in a while he touched the scar above his hip. He refused to believe  Rumlow  had spared him but when he heard Crossbones mentioned occasionally and his ruthless kills, he knew the operative was more than capable of killing with a knife. 

The next hit was closer to home. The mayor of New York was being suspected of some vile things and before he could escape his sentence with a team of expert lawyers, he was shot while under house arrest. Nobody knew how but Sam knew why, and he didn’t like that he was pleased at the news. Still, Crossbones wasn’t shy of cameras and with the heavy get-up, his real face wasn’t showing up as often as that terrifying mask. If anything, he was becoming famous and the lowlifes were treating him as a symbol of justice. It was like they forgot what he really was and could only see his assassinations as purging the scum. 

Sam watched the news a bit more closely after that and it seemed like  Rumlow  was going to stay in New York a bit longer. Some politician was in the limelight and Sam had a feeling the guy was next. 

It didn’t take much convincing to stalk out the residence from a rooftop and as much as he wanted Redwing on recon,  Rumlow  wasn’t going to show if he saw the drone so he kept it beside him. At least, that’s what Sam thought. As he watched the apartment, the door to the rooftop opened behind him.

“Well, this is awkward,”  Rumlow  said, pistol aimed at Sam’s head. He wasn’t fazed by Redwing drifting up with its turret active. “I know you didn’t come here to stargaze. How  d’you  find me?”

“You seem to be on some vigilante streak. I figured this asshole’s next. Guess I was right. This isn’t your usual M.O.”

Rumlow  scoffed. “Is that what you think? My buyers know who to target, that’s all.”

Sam shouldn’t have thought there would’ve been more to it, but he still felt disappointed. 

“And this guy? Why kill him?”

“Drug-ring needs a new leader. I don’t expect someone like you to understand. Now, you’re in my way. Get lost or I’ll kill you too.”  Rumlow  stepped closer, eyeing the drone as he held the gun steady. 

Sam sighed and took out the knife from a sheath strapped to his thigh, flicking it around his fingers. 

“You kept  it.  Nice souvenir from our time together. After all, I’ve got you to thank for this.”  Rumlow  briefly lifted up the mask to show off his extensive scars. They’d healed more but Sam turned his head away. “Yeah, I’m not a pretty boy anymore.”

“That wasn’t my fault.” 

The laugh that came out of  Rumlow  was like a short bark, rough and clipped with anger. 

“No, you just left me to die. But I’ve got more than some scars to be pissed about.” He took a step closer, overcome with hatred. “I lost everyone. My whole team. Those who escaped were hunted down.”

“You worked for Hydra, what did you expect would happen?” 

“You’re going to pay. You, Rogers, everyone. I’ll kill all of you.” 

“And how are you going to do that? You’re just some gun for hire.”

Sam was glad Redwing could act before he could, otherwise he would’ve been shot.  Rumlow  cried out, grabbing his bleeding shoulder from the warning shot. He had to swap hands but Sam was tackling him down before he could use his pistol. A few punches and  Rumlow  had lost the gun, and Sam was holding the knife to his throat. 

Somehow  Rumlow  wasn’t afraid, or at least he didn’t show it. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose everybody who relied on you? My whole team... Guys I’d trained since they were kids. We were all family and you fucking killed them all. I’m the last one and I’m going to kill you all for what you did.”

“Hydra was going to destroy everything.”

“It was going to be a better world! Safe, without war and conflict.”

Sam’s hand shook slightly. “You really believe that? If that’s the case, you would’ve been made obsolete. No one would’ve needed you anymore. Hydra would’ve gotten rid of you and STRIKE the second their plan went through.”

“At least it would’ve been a better end than this.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” Sam wished he’d kept the mask on because he didn’t want to see the emotions in  Rumlow’s  eyes. 

“I don’t call this living. You wouldn’t either if you went through what I did. This isn’t living. So, fucking  do  it. Kill STRIKE once and for all. If you let me live, I’ll come after you and everyone you love. I won’t stop until they’re all dead.”

Sam knew he could end it, just dig the knife deeper and across  Rumlow’s  throat. Let him bleed out and save himself so much trouble. Instead, he got up off his knees and climbed off  Rumlow’s  chest and stayed a small distance away. 

Rumlow  didn’t move for some time and Sam saw his throat bobbing when he tried to keep quiet and not let any more emotions surface. 

“You fucking pussy,” he mumbled before sitting up and applying pressure to his shoulder. Redwing was observing carefully, ready to fire again at a moment’s notice.

“I’m not going to grant your death wish, Brock,” Sam replied, his back to the ledge and his arms in his lap. He toyed with the knife.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry.”

Rumlow  forced himself to get up and look across to the apartment. “Well, congratulations. Your guy gets to live. He left the apartment.” 

“Where are you going?” Sam watched as he went to the exit. 

“Home. I guess. He’ll have to die some other day. Do yourself a favour, don’t stalk me. My dog doesn’t like people.”

Sam just let him go. He’d saved the politician and he could have him placed under protection later. There was no point going after  Rumlow . He didn’t have the strength in him to follow and arrest him, not when he knew  Rumlow’s  motive for pissing him off. The guy needed serious help, not a prison cell, and Sam was glad he’d gone alone. The others would’ve disapproved.

\--- 

Rumlow  should’ve known that Wilson wouldn’t be any good at listening. So for deciding to stalk him,  Rumlow  led him on a very, very long walk down random turns and loops just to confuse the guy. He hoped it pissed him off at least a little bit. But eventually the pain and  blood loss  convinced him to head home.

When he got there, he’d lost track of Wilson and hoped that had been the end of it. He waited for hours for the Avengers to ransack the place but they never came. He had another place lined up just in case they did and all his shit was packed ready to go. Rumlow waited for a week before he realised they weren’t coming. 

So he was willing to leave the house at last and get some food. He ate under a bridge to avoid the rain and went straight to the one place he liked in the whole city. It was an old boxing gym, owned by some retired fighter. At night, it was deserted and  Rumlow  knew how to pick an old lock.

His shoulder stung from the graze of the bullet and soon he would need more medication. He called quits on the assassination for now and had left it to someone else, so his payment wasn’t coming. The punching bag received more than a fair share of his anger and the chain creaked in distress with every hit. Each blow cleared his mind a little more and once he was truly in the zone, he didn’t have to think about anything. 

Until his dog growled.

Rumlow  stopped the bag from swinging back and looked up at Wilson in the doorway. The Avenger came down the few steps into the basement and eyed the dog with more fear than he did for Rumlow.

“I told you he doesn’t like people. I thought I got rid of you.”

Sam shrugged. “I’ve got Redwing and a bunch of surveillance drones. Doesn’t take much effort.”

“I’ll try harder. You here to finish this?”

“I wanted to talk. I can wait till you’re done, though.” He inclined his head towards the bag still weakly swinging. 

“You’d be waiting a while.”  Rumlow  stepped away and whistled at the dog. The rottweiler laid its head down on its front paws, whining gently. “The fuck  do  you want to talk about?”

Rumlow  grabbed the shirt he’d thrown aside a while back and covered up the many scars from sight. Sam wasn’t bothered but he felt a little relief not having to see the extent of the damage. It wasn’t guilt, he told himself, it was sympathy. 

“You, mostly. I don’t understand why you do this. All this killing, it’s not getting you closer to your goal. You’re just getting your hands dirty for no reason.”

“I have reasons,”  Rumlow  grumbled, taking his  waterbottle  from the floor and drinking without taking his eyes off Sam. “It’s fun.”

“What’s fun about hiding like this?”

Rumlow  scoffed. “No, dumbass, killing is fun. Plus, I need the cash. You see me with a real job? People like me only know one thing.”

“You could get away from it all. Find somewhere to lay low.”

“That’s cute. That’s really cute how you think it’s that easy. You think I live a single day in peace? This is laying low. If I don’t kill, I don’t eat, I don’t have a roof, I don’t get my drugs. There is no getting away.”

Sam felt braver and approached carefully, side-glancing the now lazy dog. Despite its teeth, it looked rather harmless. Skinny and curled up on itself for warmth.

“What drugs?”

The look on Sam’s face made him chuckle. “Relax, I’m not some heroin-junkie. Couldn’t afford it even if I wanted to be. This,” he gestured to himself, “needs a lot of painkillers. And they’re not cheap. I only get them if I do a job right. Fuck it, you won’t understand if I don’t explain. After the Triskelion, Hydra tried to make more super soldiers. I was one of them. It healed me.  Sorta . But it wasn’t right so  it  broke stuff too.”

“How bad is it?” 

“Agony if it goes unchecked. It’s okay for now but it will get worse soon. Why the fuck  do  you care anyways? Waiting until I pass out so you can take me in?”

Sam shook his head and sat on the edge of the boxing ring, the ropes flexing under his back. He hadn’t bothered with his flight suit or the wings or any weapons beside that knife. Redwing was on the ground floor, waiting for any commands.

“Just curious.” It wasn’t a good excuse, not by far, but Sam c ouldn’t  explain how he felt. He wasn’t sure there were words for it. 

“Right. Curiosity brought you here. Not maybe, I  dunno , the urge to bring me down?” When Sam didn’t  snark  back,  Rumlow  raised a brow. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t really know. Guess I just wanted to know more.” 

“So, what, is this a truce? You’re not going to fight me?”

Sam shrugged and gestured to his clothes. “Do I look ready for a fight? I just... what you said stuck with me. I don’t want to kill  you,  man. Do you really want to die?”

Rumlow  scoffed and it was like the wall between them fell down, and he came to sit close to Sam on the platform. They’d never been still for more than a couple minutes without blood between them and it was strange for Sam to just stop and look at  Rumlow  without getting punched or stabbed. 

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not going to walk into traffic or jump off a bridge. When you’re always expecting not to make it home, it changes you.”

Sam nodded slowly. “I know what that’s like. When I was on tour, it was easier to forget home even existed. I could just do my job easier that way. It stopped after I left.”

“It hasn’t for me.” 

“You haven’t left that life, though.” 

Rumlow  waved a hand over himself with a sharp huff. He whistled for his dog and it trotted over obediently, happy to petted. Sam kept his hands to himself even if he loved dogs. For a moment  Rumlow  seemed to forget he was there, just rubbing the dog’s ears and neck lovingly. 

“Cute dog. Does  it  have a name?”

“Of course it has a name. Rex.” The dog’s head came up attentively. “Yeah, you’re a smart boy, aren’t you?”  Rumlow  sighed. “He’s... not quite so terrifying. In fact, he’s  kinda  useless.”

“He growled at me,” Sam pointed out. 

“Yeah, that’s about all he’ll do. And he’s not really mine. We just  sorta  found each other. Put your hand out flat.” Sam held out his hand and Rex sniffed curiously, licking one finger, and went back to Rumlow. “See? He’s pretty gentle. I don’t know where he came from.”

“Looks like he’s taking care of you.” Sam smiled briefly and bravely lifted his hand again to stroke over the dog’s head. 

“The fuck are we doing, man? Talking like we’re best friends or some shit. Fuck this, no more feelings or crap. Let’s fight.”

Rumlow  stood up and Rex wagged its tail, watching its owner slip through the ropes and onto the platform. Sam raised a brow. 

“Dude, I’m not fighting you.”

“Why not? Don’t be such a pussy all the time. Come on. No weapons, just good old-fashioned hand to hand. I’ll try not to break your face this time.”  Rumlow  was already bouncing on his toes getting worked up. Sam couldn’t convince him to stop so he climbed into the ring too.

“I’ve never boxed before.”

“Then just fight normally.”

“Rules?” 

Rumlow  rolled his eyes. “No broken bones. First blood. Who cares? I was ready for a night of working out till you interrupted.” 

“Tap out too. Let’s make it fair.” Sam shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the ropes. “Alright, let‘s go.”

He wasn’t surprised that  Rumlow  took the offensive immediately and forced Sam to dodge and block badly. Still, it didn’t stop Sam from dealing some hits too.  Rumlow  obeyed the rules, backing off when he could’ve snapped or dislocated a wrist instead. The dog curled back to sleep and Sam wanted to do the same. 

Forcing his back into  Rumlow’s  chest, he somehow managed to catch him off guard and flip him down on the mat. He landed with a grunt and rolled to the side, wincing. Sam waited until he was up again before lashing out but  Rumlow  was ready to time and kicked Sam’s legs out from under him.

“Alright, alright. Time out. Fuck. It’s like sparring with Steve except he gives me a break,” Sam complained from the mat, staring up at the cracked and mouldy ceiling of the basement. He turned his head to the side and huffed when  Rumlow  stretched like he was preparing for another round.

“No wonder you’re shit then if you keep stopping.”

“Shut up. You’re both super humans. I’m just a dude with wings.”

“Yeah, and you suck without them. Plus, I’m not some super soldier like Rogers. I’m not that much stronger than before, I just got more stamina and pain tolerance. For a while at least.” 

Sam was grateful when  Rumlow  shoved his  waterbottle  into Sam’s hand. He needed it. He had sweated through his t-shirt and was yearning for his bed. Everything hurt.  Rumlow  sat beside him, crossing his legs easily and smirking down at Sam. 

Sam wasn’t staring at his face, though. His attention was on his heavily scarred arm and shoulder. He sat up and passed back the drink. 

“Does it still hurt?”

“Nope. I can’t feel shit in some places.” He dragged a hand down his shoulder to his elbow. “All numb. You could punch me and it would tingle at best.”

“And the rest?” Sam nodded towards  Rumlow’s  face. 

“The  only  thing that hurts  is  the shit they gave me. Nothing else.”

“And is your face numb too?”

Rumlow  shook his head, causing the already stringy hair to fall into his face. He brushed it back with an annoyed huff and turned to Sam just as he leaned in. Sam kissed him softly on the corner of his lips and edged closer to reach more. He expected  Rumlow  to knock him off any second so the arm wrapping around his torso to pull him closer was welcomed. When Sam moved back,  Rumlow  followed with a rougher kiss. 

“What the fuck was that about, Wilson?”  Rumlow  asked when they’d pulled away and his face felt too warm. Sam seemed a little shell-shocked too. 

“I just wanted to, I guess. You kissed me back.”

“Don’t turn this into some sappy shit. I haven’t gotten laid in ages, I’m not passing up the opportunity.”  Rumlow  yanked Sam closer and kissed him harder than the first time, easing the younger man down onto the mat. He climbed in his lap and Sam wasn’t complaining. 

“Is that what we’re doing?”

Rumlow  brought his head up to look down at Sam, a frown forming deep lines on his forehead. “Unless you don’t want to...”

“I just, location is key and there’s no bed.” 

“So what? You that much of a pillow princess?” Sam punched him below the ribs. “Asshole. Fine. Get up.”

Rumlow  climbed out of the ring and waited for Sam by the wall. When he was close, he grabbed Sam and pushed him into the wall and quickly palmed him through the jeans.

“Fuck, Rumlow!” 

Rumlow  grinned and made quick work of Sam’s belt, shoving a hand into his boxer without any warning, and kissed Sam fiercely. All the while he was chuckling and stroking Sam’s hardening cock. 

“Why is everything a fight with you?” Sam asked against his lips, holding back a groan as  Rumlow  bit his neck and licked up the sting.

“It’s more fun. Just enjoy it.”

“I am, trust me.  Ohh  fuck...” 

Rumlow  snuck a hand under Sam’s shirt and dragged his nails down, catching a nipple that he pulled and teased mercilessly. His other hand was still stroking, rubbing the precum down over the wet head. Sam could hardly rub two brain cells together but he managed to grope at  Rumlow’s  cargos and fiddle with the overly complicated belt. He grinned when he got it open and felt the warm weight in his palm. He squeezed  Rumlow’s  cock, pulling a deep groan from the operative’s throat as he teased it.

Before he could continue,  Rumlow  dropped down to his knees and licked a wet stripe up Sam’s length. Sam instinctively grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged hard, whimpering behind his fist as  Rumlow  took the head into his mouth. 

“Oh God yes! Just like that.” Sam guided  Rumlow’s  head up and down, slowing the rhythm torturously when he felt close to the edge. He wanted to last a few minutes at least.  Rumlow  hummed as his hair was pulled, his tongue swirling along the underside wetly. “Fuck, fuck, I’m close!”

Sam groaned in frustration as  Rumlow  pulled off and stood back up, taking the slick cock back into his hand. He directed Sam to his own aching cock, encouraging him to stroke at the same brutal pace that was pushing Sam closer and closer. Shoving his face into  Rumlow’s  shoulder, he cried out weakly as he came suddenly. 

“That’s it,”  Rumlow  said, his voice deeper and rough. “Good boy, you come nice and hard for me. Fuck, you sound so hot.”

Trying to keep up was impossible and he felt his hand slow, but  Rumlow  cupped a hand over his own and helped. There was a low groan in Sam’s ear and he felt cum landed on his softening cock. He glanced down and felt his knees buckle at the sight, whimpering gently as  Rumlow  came on him and his hand. Slumping back against the wall, Sam sighed happily and watched with barely open eyes as  Rumlow  cleaned up the mess with his mouth. It was so arousing Sam wanted a second round. 

“Damn, can we just do this instead of fighting?” Sam asked, panting heavily as  Rumlow  tucked them back in.  Rumlow  watched him with a curious glint in his eyes.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Good.” Sam pulled him into another kiss and grinned. “Now, can we go somewhere with a bed?”

“I’ve got a place close by.” He paused and glanced away. “This... it-”

“We’ll figure it out,” Sam promised, kissing him again before he followed  Rumlow  and Rex out of the basement. 

Whatever it was, Sam hoped they could make it work. He just had to keep it quiet from the rest of the guys. He could do it, right? 


End file.
